


Distractions

by franglemand



Category: Elenium/Tamuli Series - David & Leigh Eddings
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 18:40:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franglemand/pseuds/franglemand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bevier is too busy to attend the pre-wedding celebrations for Kalten and Alean. Aphrael is not impressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Roadstergal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roadstergal/gifts).



> If you squint there could be Aphrael/ Bevier romantic feelings in this but it's very much "if you squint and tilt your head that way a bit" so I'm not putting it in tags. Happy Yuletide!

“What do you mean he’s not coming?”  
  
“Apparently he’s caught up in paperwork – you know he’s still cataloguing the history of the Cyrinic order and now that Darellon’s getting so forgetful he’s taken on a lot of extra responsibilities,” Sparhawk told his daughter, frowning in irritation. “We really need to call a meeting and arrange for Darellon to be replaced if he doesn’t step aside soon. I’m positive Bevier’s covering up some of his lapses out of loyalty but he’s so stubborn, he’ll never admit to it.”  
  
Danae stamped her foot. “But he has to be here! He’s not missing Kalten’s wedding. I’ll drag him here myself if I have to.”  
  
Sparhawk shook his head. “He said he’d be here for the ceremony but he can’t make it for the rehearsal or the celebrations beforehand. Ulath and Tynian should be here in a few hours, Berit got back to the Chapter House yesterday and Khalad and Talen are around somewhere but Bevier won’t be here for another week.”  
  
“That isn’t good enough, Sparhawk. I need all of you to be here. It doesn’t feel right, Bevier being missing. I don’t like it.” Danae frowned. “I told you, there’s family stuff going on at the moment and I was counting on all of you being here to celebrate with Kalten and Alean before the wedding so I could sort it out.”  
  
“Can’t you do whatever it is after the wedding?”  
  
“I suppose I could,” Danae allowed reluctantly. “I want it done before though. It doesn’t feel right.”  
  
“Well unless you plan on going and picking Bevier up by the scruff of the neck, I don’t see it happening,” Sparhawk said dryly. “Even if send a message to Bevier now, he won’t be here until just before the wedding. You’ll just have to manage without him or put back your plans until after the wedding.”  
  
Danae frowned, then smiled sweetly up at her father. “Or I could just fly to the Cyrinic chapterhouse and pick Bevier up by the scruff of the neck?”  
  
“Danae, no.” Sparhawk looked at her sternly. “You’re needed here in the palace for the next few days; somebody will notice you’ve gone. Besides, Bevier won’t thank you for it.” Sparhawk had a sudden vivid image of the very formal, very devout Cyrinic knight. “If you turn up naked, he’ll probably just retire into a monastery at once.”  
  
“You worry too much. I’m going to Kalten’s wedding as Flute anyway so I’ll just be Danae here and go to Bevier as Flute. And I’m sure we’ll work something out with the clothes. We’re both very resourceful.” Danae patted her father’s cheek gently on the way out the room.  
  
Sparhawk rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Why me?”  
  
_________________________________________________________________  
  
“Bevier, what are you doing and why aren’t you in Cimmura?”  
  
Sir Bevier, head down over a desk that looked about to collapse under the weight of the papers covering it, startled visibly, knocking his inkwell to the floor as he did so.  
  
“Flute!” He exclaimed, clearly torn between standing to greet her, bowing his head and mopping up the spilt ink. The resulting attempt to accomplish all three tasks at the same time was less than successful.  
  
Flute looked critically at him. “What’s going on? This place is a mess and you look like you haven’t slept in days.”  
  
Finally picking up the ink well and replacing it on his desk, Bevier pulled himself up straight and said somewhat stiffly. “I apologise, Divine One, for the state of my office. As you can see, we are a little busy here at the moment. If you would accompany me into the other room, I will find you something to drink.”  
  
“Don’t be ridiculous, Bevier. You don’t need to apologise to me for having a messy office and you don’t need to get me a drink. You do however need to get together whatever you need for Kalten and Alean’s wedding because I’m taking you back with me.”  
  
Bevier fought the urge to put his head in his hands. “Flute, I can’t leave today. I have a lot of work to finish. I will be at the wedding so I promise I will see you in a few days.”  
  
Flute narrowed her eyes at him before looking around the room more closely. “Alright,” she conceded. “I’ll give you a few hours to settle whatever you need to but after that you are coming with me.” She paused. “If you like I’ll even allow a bit of time for you to have a nap.”  
  
________________________________________________________________  
  
Five hours later, having succeeded in completing at least the most urgent of the paperwork, tidied away the rest and brushed off questions from his brother knights about the pretty Styric child who had turned up to summon him to Cimmura, Bevier found himself outside the chapterhouse and following the soft sound of pipes. He smiled gently on spotting Flute, unchanged and unchangeable as always, sitting quite contentedly in a field and playing a soft, Styric melody as he walked across the field to join her.  
  
He bowed as he approached and waited for her to stop playing. Flute merely smiled around her pipes and played on. It occurred to Bevier how incongruous a sight it must be, he in his brightly burnished armour and white surcoat bowing to a small Styric child with very dark hair and eyes and grass-stains on her feet. Gradually the flurry of notes slowed and stopped, bringing the melody to a close. Bevier straightened and offered his hand courteously to help her to her feet.  
  
“I’m ready now, Flute, if you would like us to leave.”  
  
Flute raised her eyebrows. “Well, finally,” she said tartly. “You do know there are other capable knights in your order? I’m sure you could delegate some of your work to them. You still haven’t slept, have you?”  
  
Bevier flushed. “It’s a busy time at the moment,” he said mildly. “Should we be going? And may I ask how we are travelling? The stables are around the other side of the chapterhouse if we are planning on riding.”  
  
Flute sighed in a melodramatic fashion. “That would be far too slow for my purposes. We’re flying. Nobody should come near this field for the next few minutes at least so we have a little time.”  
  
“Flying? I really think-”  
  
“Is there a problem with flying, Sir Bevier? You are not afraid of heights I trust?” Flute looked at him meaningfully.  
  
Bevier flushed again and avoided her direct gaze. “No,I’m not afraid of heights. But is flying really necessary?”  
  
“Yes, it is,” she said crisply. Then she smiled mischievously. “Don’t worry, Sir Bevier, I shall make sure to remember clothes for myself. Now turn around so I can change.”  
  
“Yes, Flute,” he sighed, turning his back on the small girl.  
  
“Ok,” came the response a minute or so later. “You can turn around now.”  
  
Bevier took a deep breath before turning around, eyes on the ground.  
  
“Bevier,” Flute – Aphrael – said impatiently, “Is there a problem? Because you don’t seem to be looking at me.”  
  
“Everything’s fine,” Bevier replied, raising his eyeline to a lovely green tree with a few early buds on it just behind Aphrael’s shoulder. He jumped visibly when Aphrael put her hands on his upper arms, positioning herself directly in front of him and gazing at him with a mix of amusement and irritation.  
  
“Sir Bevier, I need to be in this form in order to fly and I need you to relax because otherwise it’s going to be like dragging a waterlogged sponge through treacle. Now are you ok with this or do I need to get you drunk first?”  
  
“No, no need for alcohol!” he blurted out. “Everything’s fine, I can be relaxed. But could you – I mean, would you mind...”  
  
“Would I mind what, Bevier,” she asked tiredly.  
  
“Would you please put some clothes on?” he said, rather shamefacedly.  
  
Aphrael looked down at herself. “But I’m wearing clothes.”  
  
“Not ones that leave much to the imagination,” Bevier pointed out.  
  
“Fine,” Aphrael switched the translucent veil she had been wearing for one of solid white. “Is that better?”  
  
Bevier nodded, not trusting his voice.  
  
“Ok, come on then. Give me your hand and look at the sky.”  
  
“Why look at the sky?”  
  
“Just do it, Bevier. It’ll be easier, believe me.”  
  
The Cyrinic knight obediently took hold of her hand (praying silently to the Elene God as he did so) and looked at the sky.  
  
“That’s better,” Aphrael said approvingly.  
  
A few moments of silence passed between them as they went up a few feet.  
  
“Ok, now look down.”  
  
Bevier looked at the ground. “I must make a note to get the roof mended. I can see where it’s leaking from up here. What?”  
  
Aphrael’s rich laugh rang out. “You’re twenty feet above the ground and your only thought is that you can see where the roof leaks? Bevier, we need to find you a distraction.” Seeing that Bevier seemed unconcerned by the height, she lifted them up higher. “How would you feel about a wife?”  
  
Bevier choked and turned red, trying to ignore the soft hand in his. “I’m married to the Church, Aphrael, you know that.”  
  
“Not quite, I believe. Knights are allowed to marry, you know. Even Preceptors.”  
  
“That isn’t the point, Aphrael. I have chosen to devote myself to the Church. I have no plans to marry any woman. I neither want nor need any distractions.”  
  
“Everybody needs distractions occasionally,” Aphrael said firmly. “I can’t feel the need for it myself but I understand many humans find the act of procreation to be pleasurable and very relaxing.”  
  
Bevier wondered rather frantically if praying to one god while being pulled through the air by another would be helpful or entirely counter-productive; he didn’t want to find that his God’s reponse to his prayer was to break Aphrael’s spell and send him hurtling to the ground.  
  
“We’ll have a look around at the wedding, I’m sure Ulath and Tynian will be happy to help out,” Aphralel continued, seeing no response forthcoming from her companion. “Or perhaps you would prefer Elahna and Melidere to ask around? I don’t know how good Ulath and Tynian are at finding women interested in anything long term, although I’m positive they could find you a nice servant for a night or two. You’re very attractive and I’m sure your friends would be willing to help. Unfortunately Danae is still too young to spend time with the women eligible for marriage so I’m not too familiar with them personally.”  
  
“Are we nearly there yet?” Bevier asked, desperation in his tone.  
  
Aphrael looked down. “Almost. Just a couple more minutes.”  
  
Bevier sighed gratefully as Aphrael began to angle them towards the ground and gently brought them into land.  
  
“Still, if you do want a wife you can just say so. I’m very good at match-making. And a pretty woman does provide a nice distraction from things, doesn’t she?”


End file.
